


Christmas Extravaganza

by Mysana



Series: The Extraordinary Life of Darcy Lewis (Much to her Fathers' Worry) [20]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2018-10-31 17:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10903869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysana/pseuds/Mysana
Summary: Sherlock, John, Mycroft, Lestrade, and Hamish all in person for the first time.





	1. The Gathering - Part 1

“Miss Darcy, you have guests waiting for you in the lobby.” Jarvis said, just as Darcy took a huge bite of her sandwich to avoid answering Jane’s questions. Darcy chewed quickly and moved to the elevator. She knew that Dad and Papa were picking up Hamish today so they would be at Stark tower within the next day or two. So who was it?

The possibilities were pretty limited. Darcy had never had a lot of friends, and her only family was the adopted one (until recently), her adopted grandparents had died a several years ago. Which left-

“Uncle Mike!” Darcy shouted in a mixture of surprise - she hadn’t expected him for several more days; happiness - she hadn’t had the chance to see him in person in ages; and annoyance - he hadn’t given her any warning! “Let ‘im up Jarvis.”

“Yes M’am.” There was a moment of delay which Darcy used to walk to the elevator. “There has been a temporary delay as Mr. Holmes has refused to use the biometric scanner. Can you explain why this is, Miss Darcy?”

“Ah. His job won’t let him - if I had to guess. After the whole Sheildra debatical he’s probably on high alert.”

“We do not have a Hydra infestation.” Jarvis says, sounding. Well. Indignant at the idea that he might’ve allowed _Hydra_ agents into Stark Industries. “I’m sorry to say, Miss Darcy, but it is against protocol to allow guests up to the shared areas of the private quarters without a proof of identity..”

“Oh,” Darcy’s brow furrowed, “can you let him up to my floor without it?” There was a pause, Jarvis was either trying to decide or was asking Tony probably.

“He can come to your floor but he will not be allowed to travel freely through the residential section of the tower without it.”

“Okay, we can work with that, what does it entail?” Darcy entered the open doors of the elevator.

“Mr. Holmes would require accompaniment on any other floor by a permanent resident such as yourself.”

“Fine. Why though?” Darcy had some guesses but it was always good to have new ‘data’ (as Dad called it). She realised that the elevator was going slower than normal and guessed that Jarvis probably didn’t want to share the details of security with guests/strangers.

“The biometric scanner automatically compares against Stark Industries pre-existing files for Hydra or enemy agents and creates a new file so even if the user is wearing a disguise they can be appropriately identified. This is to prevent corporate espionage, assassination, or other such situations.”

“…Cool.”

“Indeed, Mr. Holmes has arrived on your floor. Chief Inspector Lestrade has accompanied Mr. Holmes.” Jarvis said, and the doors slid open.

For a moment Darcy stood in the elevator, looking out the open doors at her family. Uncle Greg’s hair was about half white and half grey now, but somehow still looked like he was in his late 40s. His face was slightly more lined than she remembered and the ring on his hand gone, the white strip mostly faded. _He’d taken off the ring before the divorce was finalised. He was sure._ He looked good. Happier.

Uncle Mike looked elegant as always. The regal air in no way reduced by the retreating hair line and scar above his left eyebrow. He looked healthier than before, Darcy made a note to thank Reggie - Uncle Mike’s apprentice. The three piece suit looked mostly unwrinkled and Darcy mentally rolled her eyes, somehow he came out of all but the worst of situations looking like he would fit in at Buckingham Palace. Which, she supposed, he did.

They stood closer together than they had before, but Uncle Mike looked slightly more awkward than normal so it might not’ve been the normal state of things. But in all, they both looked older (to be expected), and better (which she was happy with).

Darcy moved at a pace not quite a run, but not a walk either and gave Uncle Greg a quick hug - she wasn’t really hug a person but she hadn’t had the chance to see him in ages. She looked at Uncle Mike.

“Red velvet cake and party rings.” It was the secret code. The key to which was the other person’s favourite food.

“Green apples and steak.”

“Nice to see you Uncle Mike.”

“And you Darcy, but really, must you insist on continuing to act as Sherlock’s agent?”

“Mycroft?” Uncle Greg looked at Uncle Mike confused.

“My brother convinced Darcy to call me ‘Mike’ even though she knows I find it… distasteful.” Darcy snorted,

“It reminds him of repressed childhood trauma…” Darcy gave a dramatic pause, “School. I’m talking about school.” Uncle Greg gave a short laugh that didn’t hide the tension in his shoulders.

“But in all seriousness Darcy, I thought you said you weren’t going to get into this… well this shit…” Uncle Greg says looking around the room as if the Avengers were there with them.

“I… Well… I didn’t mean to.” Darcy said with a sigh, she’s _hadn’t_ meant to. It had just. Sort of happened.

“But worse than that-“ Uncle Greg’s voice didn’t crack, but it was strained and his face showed his hurt. “- you - you didn’t tell me. I had to hear from John and Mycroft. And that- well. Darcy, you basically cut everyone out when you went to university, and I. Well I accepted it, you were growing into your own and needed space to do it. But _Darcy_ ,” There is so much hurt in his voice and Darcy doesn’t wince - she deserves this. Uncle Greg pauses and it looks like he might not finish, but finally he looks her straight in the eye and asks,

“Do you want me to go?”

“What?!” That was not what she expected. “No! I don’t- I didn’t-” She takes a deep breath and tries again, “I’m no good at communication. The wrong word and _he_ would know we were on his tail. Too much sharing and whoever it was I was speaking to was at risk. I- Until Hamish was rescued, I’d lived most of my life learning to be quiet - to _not_ share. I don’t know how to do this!” And this is pulling up all the scabs that provided some small level of protection against all the hurts in her life. But. It’s worth it to see the tension in Uncle Greg’s frame release. He sighs and puts a wrinkled hand on her shoulder. The scabs wouldn’t last this Christmas anyway. Too many people who made too many pieces hurt.

“Okay Darcy, I understand - well actually - no I don’t, I’ve never had to do that. So,” he takes a deep breath, “ I don’t understand but I’ll do my best to be understanding. But. Please. _Please Darcy_ , you are part of my family. The daughter I never had-‘

“You have a daughter.”

“-Well yes, but the point remains. I wasn’t there to watch you learn to walk, or talk, I wasn’t there for your first deduction. But I was there for your high school graduation. I was there for your first trip to England. I was there when you decided to go to Culver.” Uncle Greg pulls her into another hug and she doesn’t resist, “I know it’s hard, Mycroft and I live in another country - on another continent - but we’re still family. And distance doesn’t mean much when Mycroft can hire a private jet if he needs to.”

“I _do not_ hire private jets. It’s _my_ jet. Anything else would be a security risk.” Uncle Mike sniffed. Uncle Greg and Darcy shared a look and snickered quietly for a moment.

“Of course, because that makes a huge difference to this conversation. My point Darcy, is that if you need me, I’m there.”

“I’ve never doubted it Uncle Greg.”

“Also, I’ve wanted to say this for ages, just call me Lestrade.”

“Really?” Darcy grinned, for some reason Dad and Papa had insisted that she call Uncle Greg by his first name even though she was _the only one_ , everyone else called him Lestrade.

“Honest. You’re parents both insisted I be Uncle Greg - with my permission - but you’re an adult now.” Then he smiled, “to be honest sometimes I forget that Lestrade’s not my first name.”

“Gregory,”

“Ah yes, everyone calls me Lestrade except for Mycroft.”

“Oh gross,” Darcy says making a face, “are you saying that Greg is your bedroom name,” she sticks out her tongue in disgust, “I do not want to know that level of detail about your life!”

“Darcy!” Uncle Mike chides, but his face has a pinkish tint to it and Darcy has the horrid realisation that her joke was spot on.

“Oh my god.” She deadpans in despair. “I’m going to go wash my hands. and mouth. In fact I’m going to go take a shower. I feel dirty.”


	2. Meet Hamish Watson (or, The Gathering Part 2)

The car door opens and Darcy, standing in the very modern garage, feels her heart beat against her chest like she’s in a boxing match. A small blond head pops out, followed by an entire small body. 

 

“Hamish!” Darcy grins and puts her arms out wide to catch her little brother as he throws himself into her. 

 

“Hi Darcy!” Hamish murmurs into her _constantly annoying_ boobs. “I missed you.” Darcy lets the tension bleed out of her.

 

“I missed you too, Sweetheart. How are you doing?”

 

“I’m okay,” Hamish pauses and Darcy continues to hold him tight, “it was really crowded.” Darcy pauses. Hamish _hates_ crowds, but Papa said he’d insisted on coming for Christmas to meet his ‘new brother’ as he called JARVIS. 

 

“Do you need a little bit of quiet time now?”

 

“Yes please.”

 

‘Alright, we can meet the gang later, want me to carry you?”

 

“Yeah,” and suddenly the 8 year old boy Darcy had been hugging is looking closer to 4, and _damn_ isn’t he adorable. Darcy hoists him up on her hip and runs her hands through his rat’s nest of hair. 

 

“Darcy,” a warning tone says, and Darcy turns back to the car. _Oh yeah_ , _Dad and Papa came too_. Papa’s stern face breaks out into a grin and he pulls her into a hug, Hamish and all. “Honestly, we come all they way and you just about leave without so much as a hug!”

 

“Hello Dumpling,” Dad says, still standing by the door. His curly black hair has grown out again and her hands twitch at the thought of another afternoon of braiding his hair with Hamish. Dad stood for a moment, continually awkward, until Darcy pulled him into a hug then let him go again. Dad had changed a lot over the years, but Sherlock Holmes would always be Sherlock Holmes. To those that truly knew him, that meant _awkward_. 

 

A tap on her shoulder pulled Darcy away from her careful perusal of her fathers. Hamish had his head tucked against her shoulder and his left hand held a handful of shirt fabric from the back of her shirt. Darcy shifts and ruffles his hair.

 

“Sweetheart?”

 

“When can I meet my brother?”

 

“Right now if you want, or would you rather of it later?”

 

“Right now!”

 

“Alright,” Darcy turns and makes her way inside. Right now was good and well, but the garage was not the place to reveal a life changing secret. Once they had all gotten into the elevator with their bags Darcy turns to Dad, “Uncle Mike’s here with Uncle Gr- Lestrade.”

 

“They finally started sleeping together?” Dad asked wrinkling his nose and sighing in despair. Always so dramatic her Dad (she loved it).

 

“Yep.”

 

“Ugh. Mycroft’s going to be _insufferable_.”

 

“Is he ever anything else?” Papa asks with a soft smile. Dad just makes a dismissive yet surprisingly understandable noise. Darcy sometimes wonders if half of there communication isn’t just variations of ‘Hn’ and ‘Aah’. 

 

“Darcy, Darcy,” Hamish whispered into her ear, “is it true my new brother doesn’t have a body? Papa said so but I ain’t met no one without a _body_ and I’ve met a ton of weirdos.”

 

“Yeah, JARVIS doesn’t have a body, but it’s not nice to call someone a weirdo. Also, you know how to use correct grammar, do it!”

 

“I dun’ wanna. This is how Marlyn talks and Marlyn’s awesome.”

 

“Marlyn _is_ awesome, they’re grammar isn’t. Follow Marlyn’s awesome fashion sense, not their grammar.”

 

“Short shirts with words on them?”

 

“ _Hilarious_ words on them!” Darcy insisted as the door opened and her balanced dragging a suitcase with one hand and balancing Hamish in the other, now aching, arm. Suddenly getting in shape seemed like an even more important goal. Being able to hold Hamish in her arms indefinitely was worth waking up at 5:30 am for. Hamish hummed into her hair,

 

“Some of the jokes don’t make any sense to me,” he whined quietly.

 

“That’s true, some of the jokes are for _old_ people.”

 

“… What kind of old people jokes? Pervy ones?”

 

“Pervy?! Now where did you hear that?”

 

“Dylan said it.”

 

“Well I’ll have to have a talk with Dylan about appropriate language won’t I?”

 

“Alright, Darcy, I know you and Hamish are going to be inseparable until next week but I need you to tell us who’s sleeping where.” Papa says with a long suffering smile. 

 

“Oh right! You and Dad are on the left….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry you've had to wait so long! I'm rather nervous about introducing Hamish so let me know what you think! Also, this chapter has zero (0) editing at this point in time (16th August 2017) since if I leave this a second more in my hands I'll re-write it, _again_.
> 
> Thank you to mylittleficlet, your comments reminded me to write, and CrimsonWriter, your bookmarking comment fuelled this chapter and your collection of bookmarks gave me some pleasant reading material. 
> 
> Lot of Love, even in absence,  
> Mysana


	3. Bad Guys Did Bad Things

Darcy was showing Hamish around the wide open spaces and basking in the pleasure of watching her younger brother jump around, laugh, climb and generally act like a child. It was a touch bittersweet, but Darcy loved Hamish more than literally anyone else in the world so she was glad he was happy. (Sometimes bitter frustrations poisoned her thoughts, angry at Hamish for not being the older brother she felt had been promised to her. But she put it away and did her best to forget about it.)

 

"Bucky," a voice, presumably Captain Asshole, pleaded, "it's not your fault. You aren't a bad person."

 

"Then why did I do it!"

 

"The bad guys had you. They forced you to do bad things. You’re a victim."

 

 _Oh, sounds serious_. Darcy reached for Hamish's hand to pull him away to leave the long-lost soldiers to their war. Except her hand grasped empty air. _Shit_. She looked around the room and watched in horror as Hamish ran towards the sounds of talking. 

 

Darcy moved to catch up but Hamish was a pretty fast kid so she could only watch as he clamoured onto Bucky's lap. Or was it the Solider. (Oh lord she hoped it was Bucky.) 

 

"I got taken by a bad guy too!" Hamish chirped at the two staring men. Neither seemed to know what the appropriate response to that was. "He made me do bad things too,” Hamish added in a whisper. 

 

Darcy paused. Hamish didn't talk about Moriarty. She didn't want Hamish to get hurt, but if he decided to tell someone who might understand what he went through, well Darcy wouldn't stop it. 

 

"Yeah?" Bucky rasped, still looking rather dumbstruck. 

 

"Yeah." Hamish murmured, curling against Bucky's chest. "He hurt me when I didn't do what he wanted me to."

 

"How did you get away?" Bucky's eyes search Hamish as if looking for the answer to the question he couldn't voice. 

 

"Darcy killed him. Then Daddy and Papa came and took his body away and I never had to see him again!" Hamish's head was tucked next to Bucky's neck and the satisfaction in his voice came through clear despite the muffling effect of Bucky's neck. 

 

"Ah," Bucky frowned, "But I tried to ki- hurt my best friend."

 

"But the bad guys told you to?" Hamish asked. Darcy smiled, this was something she remembered from Hamish's therapy session. 

 

"Yes."

 

"And if you had said no, would they have taken away food, water, shelter, or cause pain?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Were you ever threatened with death if you didn't do as you were told?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Then it's not your fault! Implicit threats are still threats!" Hamish remarked, copying Dr. Haynes words. 

 

"It's still my fault."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because- I- I kil- hurt people. Some people that I hadn't needed to. I could have." Bucky gulped, "I could have found another way." He finished in a whisper. 

 

"Could you have?" Hamish asked, sitting up. He aged up to 8 years old and looked Bucky straight in the face. "Did you have the physical, mental, and emotional capability to make decisions? Cause I did bad things too. And I was _old_ when I did them. Like _25_." 

Hamish paused for a moment.  

 

"I don't like being old. Because when I am I remember having to do yucky things. But. Dr. Haynes said that even if I was physically old I was still mentally young. So it's not my fault." Hamish glanced at Darcy who did her best to give a reassuring smile. "I don't always believe Dr. Haynes, but Mummy, and Daddy, and Papa, and Darcy all love me and tell me it's not my fault. And they give me hugs. Hugs help." 

 

And then Hamish proceeded to give the most renown assassin of all time a hug.  

 

 _Hamish was going to give her a premature heart attack_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally the chapter I have been waiting for since... I don't know - March? April?

**Author's Note:**

> Alright folks, I'm going to be honest, this is hard as fudge to write. For this reason there might be on going editing, I'll let you know when it happens, but I wanted to get this out to you guys as soon as possible. The next chapter is already half written so hopefully I'll be able to keep updating with some level of regularity. 
> 
> Also, I've started re-writing the series and I'm planning on uploading it all in one book so that it can be downloaded and read easier (since that's how I read most of my fan fiction). Is there anything you did/didn't like in the previous chapters that you want me to expand/remove? 
> 
> (Comment and let me know what you thought of this chapter or want to see in future chapters!)
> 
> Love you guys,  
> Mysana


End file.
